


support your local small businesses

by mozaikmage



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Getting Together, I did do some research!, M/M, THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: for Oisuga Week day 3- bookshop auSuga works at Karasuno Books. Oikawa runs the flower shop next door. Things Happen





	support your local small businesses

The doorbell rings. Suga calls out “Welcome” on reflex as he’s ringing up a customer, not really paying attention to whoever just walked in. It’s Daichi’s day off today, so Karasuno Books feels a little busier than it usually is. The second-hand bookstore is tucked away in a side alley of downtown Sendai, around the corner from a covered shopping arcade and across the street from a convenience store. Suga’s ringing up purchases and making small talk with his brain on autopilot, like he’s been doing for the past decade, when someone clears their throat obnoxiously right next to Suga’s ear.

“I’m sorry, what?” Suga whirls around and comes face to face with the handsomest man he’s ever seen, with huge brown eyes and hair that is best described as “charmingly tousled.” He’s wearing an apron that says “Seijoh Flowers” on it. The man smiles at Suga, but it seems off somehow.

“Can I help you?” Suga asks Seijoh Flowers. 

Seijoh Flowers sticks out a hand and says, “I’m Oikawa Tooru!”

“Okay...” Suga says slowly, shaking Oikawa-san’s hand. “I’m Sugawara Koushi. Can I  _ help  _ you?” Suga repeats, enunciating slightly more.

Oikawa smirks at him. “I’m the manager of Seijoh Flowers next door to you guys! We just opened this location yesterday, and I wanted to make connections with other local small business in the area. Starting with you, Sugawara-san! Can I call you Suga?”

“Uh. Sure,” Suga says. “Um, if you don’t mind...” He gestures to the short line that’s formed in front of him, and Oikawa nods and says, “Of course, of course!”

He wonders why this couldn’t have waited until after business hours, or at least until after Suga was done helping everyone in line to actually buy books, but then Oikawa starts wandering around the store, examining the shelves and typing things into his phone.

For a second, Suga entertains the possibility that the flower shop thing was a ruse and that Oikawa was actually a rival bookstore owner scoping out his competition here. But then he sees Oikawa pick up a translation of  _ The Notebook _ with what looks like genuine interest and banishes that train of thought completely. 

Karasuno Books runs mostly off of donations and Daichi periodically buying cheap books from library sales around the country, so the variety of genres they carry can be best described as “eclectic.” They have a decent collection of sheet music, foreign language books, and mysteries, because Daichi likes mysteries. They also have a lot of very old, very trashy science fiction novels in Japanese and English. 

Oikawa finds the bookcase labeled Science Fiction and gasps in delight. “Suga-chan! You have  _ so many  _ Hoshi Shinichi books!” he yells, across the entire store. The other customers turn to look at Oikawa, and Suga all but runs to the science fiction section to keep Oikawa from embarrassing him further.

“One of my grandmother’s friends collected science fiction books and manga his whole life,” Suga explains. “When he died, his daughter donated the collection to our store.”

“I see,” Oikawa says, flipping through a copy of  _ Welcome, Earth!  _ covered in yellowing tape. There’s a few different editions of the same book lined up on the shelf, most in better condition than the one Oikawa’s looking at. “How long have you been working here, Suga-chan?”

_ He’s known me for all of ten minutes and is already calling me Suga-chan, _ Suga thinks, and then answers, “Since high school. My best friend’s uncle owned the store then, so he got me the job, and then Daichi took over after we finished college.” 

Oikawa smiles at him then, a real one, and says, “I work with my best friend too. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

There’s a neat stack of dilapidated paperbacks next to his feet, and Suga gets him a little plastic basket to put them in. Oikawa turns out to be a science fiction fan, but he also grabs a bunch of titles seemingly at random, saying, “the cover looks cool,” or “I like the title,” or “the price tag says it’s 50 yen and that’s too good a deal to pass up.”

“We usually have 100-yen-and-under books on a rack outside the store,” Suga explains in response to the last one, “but it rained this morning so we didn’t set it up.”

“I’ll have to come by again on a sunny day, then,” Oikawa says. 

“Like you weren’t planning on visiting again anyway?” Suga blurts out before he can stop himself. “What happened to making connections with other local small businesses?”

Oikawa beams at him, and Suga feels like he’s missing something “You’ve got me there.”

“Well, my lunch break is almost up,” Oikawa tells him as he drops the basket onto the register. It’s crammed full of books to the point that Suga’s surprised the handle didn’t snap off.

“You sure you want all of these?”

Oikawa waves a hand dismissively. “I’m a fast reader, I know what I’m about.” He looks Suga up and down, and a chill runs down Suga’s spine.

“You should visit Seijoh Flowers the next time you’re free,” Oikawa calls as he leaves. “Maybe get a bouquet or something. Put it in your shop’s window.”

Suga closes the shop that day still feeling a vague mixture of unsettled and entertained.

 

Oikawa shows up again just a few days later, sticking his head through the door and yelling, “Suga-chan, have you had lunch yet?”

“No, why?” Suga yells back. Oikawa shoots him a thumbs-up and leaves, returning a few minutes later with two bento boxes from the Lawson’s across the street.

“Suga, who’s this?” Daichi asks him, looking at Oikawa with one eyebrow raised in suspicion. Oikawa beams. Daichi glares at the notice taped to the register that warns visitors against bringing in food and drinks to the store, but Oikawa pretends not to notice. A group of young women in the romance aisle are glancing at Oikawa and whispering, and Oikawa spares a moment to smile at them.

“This is Oikawa. He works in that new flower shop next door,” Suga explains. “I guess bothering me during his lunch break is his new hobby. But he bought a ton of books last time, so.”

“I’m Sawamura Daichi,” Daichi says, and Oikawa gasps and says, “So  _ you’re  _ the Daichi Suga mentioned!”   
“Yup,” Daichi says flatly. “Nice to meet you.” He and Daichi stare at each other for a few moments.

“I can bring you a bento next time too,” Oikawa says. 

“No need, I live right above the store,” Daichi replies. He waves at Suga. “Go take your break. Preferably somewhere else.”

“Thanks, Daichi.” Suga slaps Daichi on the back once and leads Oikawa out of the store.

“Where are we going?” Oikawa asks. 

Suga shrugs. “No food or drink inside the bookstore, so. Maybe you can show me your flower place? I haven’t had time to check it out yet, I’m sorry.”

Truth be told, he’d considered it, when he saw someone walking past Karasuno’s clear glass doors carrying a bouquet, or heard the sounds of laughter coming from next door. But it seemed a bit  _ forward  _ to just barge in unexpectedly, even though Oikawa had technically invited him to do so. 

“We don’t have any tables or chairs in there,” Oikawa says, frowning thoughtfully. 

Suga takes one of the bentos from Oikawa and drops down on the bench in between their storefronts. “Bench it is, then. Pass me some chopsticks.”

“You’re very decisive,” Oikawa says thoughtfully, throwing the disposable packet at Suga. Suga catches it with one hand.

Suga nods. “Someone has to be, right?”

They chat pleasantly about mundane things, like their work, and the city, and books. “Did you read any of those books yet?” Suga asks.

“Two,” Oikawa admits. “Sometimes I have trouble sleeping, and that’s when I go through five books in one night. I don’t read that much every day, though.”

He pokes Suga’s shoulder. “What about you? What do you read?”

Suga blinks, and then turns around to look at the bookstore. “A little bit of everything, I guess. I need to be at least a little familiar with everything we carry here. Oh, I like horror! Especially psychological horror. And thrillers. I like Shirley Jackson’s books a lot, she’s an American writer, and Kirino Natsuo.”

Oikawa stares at him. “And here I thought Suga-chan was all cute and fluffy...” His brain seems to catch up to his mouth then, and he flushes and turns away.

“I’d like to think I’m more than just cute,” Suga says.

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Oikawa says haughtily, and Suga laughs.

 

The next day, Suga takes his lunch break a little earlier than usual and walks into Seijoh Flowers. The voice that greets him isn’t Oikawa’s pleasant tenor; there’s a buff guy who kind of reminds Suga of Daichi reading a magazine about gardening behind the counter. He looks up and eyes Suga critically. Suga realizes he’s still wearing his Karasuno Books apron, and feels slightly conspicuous amongst the greenery.

“Huh. Oikawa wasn’t exaggerating for once,” the man says. Cryptic. “I’m Iwaizumi, coworker and long-suffering best friend. He usually calls me Iwa-chan, though.”

“He’s definitely mentioned you a few times,” Suga returns, smiling. “Nice to meet you! I’m Sugawara Koushi.”

“Do you actually want to buy something, or are you just here to look around?” Iwaizumi asks. “Oikawa’s off today.” 

Suga shrugs, and looks around. The flower shop has floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, since it’s on the corner of the street, and feels light and airy. There’s a few signs hanging up on the high wall behind the cash register, one about flower symbolism and one listing the costs of various ready-made bouquet packages the shop offers. 

“That’s a smart idea,” Suga says, pointing to the hanakotoba chart. “Did you know in Victorian England, people would use flower bouquets to send complicated coded messages? You could communicate whole sentences worth of ideas, like ‘meet at 12 by the docks and don’t bring your sister because I’m mad her,’ in a bunch of flowers.”

Iwaizumi chuckles. “You should tell Oikawa that, he loves this sort of stuff. He’s the one who put that sign up in the first place.”

Suga looks at the chart again. “I guess I can see that.”

 

“We should exchange numbers,” Oikawa says when he’s draped across the counter at Karasuno Books the following week, interrogating Suga on everything Iwaizumi told him on his “reconaissance mission.” “To coordinate lunch break meetups. Or maybe other meetups. I don’t know, whatever.”

Suga smiles a very patient smile at Oikawa. “If you wanted my phone number, you could have just  _ asked. _ ”

“Shut up and give me your phone,” Oikawa snaps, blushing furiously. Suga does, and also pulls out a book he found in the foreign language section. 

“Can you read English?” 

Oikawa makes an “eh” noise. “I mean, I did it in high school like everyone else, but not beyond that,” he explains. 

Suga pushes the book across the counter. It’s  _ very  _ old, probably from the early 20th century at the latest, but the hard clothbound cover doesn’t show much wear. The cover says “The Language of Flowers” in English, neatly stamped in golden ink on the blue-gray binding. 

“Iwaizumi-kun said you like secret codes and things, so when I found this thing I thought you might be interested,” Suga says. “Check the inside back cover!”

Oikawa does. Inside, glued to the endpaper, is a packet of seeds for some flower he doesn’t recognize immediately, and a note written in flowing cursive probably from the previous owner of the book.

“Whoever had this book before taped in a bunch of poems about flowers too, if you flip through the book,” Suga adds. “That’s my favorite thing about selling used books instead of new-- there’s so much history in each one.” He feels his face grow warm, but he can’t help it. He likes his job, dammit.

Oikawa’s staring at him with big, round eyes. They make eye contact and Oikawa snaps his gaze back down to the book. “You’re right, Suga-chan. This is absolutely amazing. How much?”

“1000 yen,” Suga lies smoothly. It’s supposed to be 1500, penciled on the inside front cover, but they’ve had the book sitting on the shelf for months now so if he gave a regular customer a bit of a discount, Daichi probably wouldn’t mind.

Oikawa flips the book open to the price tag and fake-gasps. “Suga-chan, are you giving me a discount?”

“I’m being neighborly,” Suga says, grinning. “Since you work next door and all.”

“Well, now I just have to buy more books to make up for it,” Oikawa declares, and goes back to the hundred-yen rack outside the store to comb it for anything interesting he might have missed the first time. He’s surprisingly picky, considering the amount of things he ends up buying. One time Oikawa told Suga that a book needs to “feel right” for him to actually want to spend money on it, which made Suga roll his eyes and laugh.

Daichi comes up behind Suga, startling him. “Have you asked him out yet? You’ve been flirting with each other since the day you met, it’s actually kind of gross.”

Suga looks down at the countertop, embarrassed. “We literally just exchanged numbers.”

Daichi gives him a look. “It’s been like two weeks.”

“I know,” Suga sighs.

The door slams open again, and Oikawa steps through with a sizable stack of discount books in hand. He nods politely at Daichi and then yells, “Suga-chan! Ring me up, please~!”

Daichi conveniently sees a shelf that needs straightening at the opposite end of the store and leaves, after giving Suga a reassuring pat on the back. 

Suga rings up Oikawa’s purchases and then, in the middle of putting the books in a paper bag, just flat-out says, “Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?”

Oikawa drops his wallet. 

“You jerk,” he hisses. “I was going to ask you out first! I had a whole  _ plan!” _

“Were flowers involved?” Suga asks drily.

Oikawa scowls. “I guess you’ll never know, since you  _ beat me to it, _ ” he says, which Suga interprets to mean “Yes.”

“I’ve never seen someone so upset to get asked out by the person they like,” Suga muses, handing the bag to Oikawa. 

“I never said I like you,” Oikawa grumbles.

“You do, though.” 

“I mean, I  _ guess. _ ”

Suga’s cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much, but he can’t stop.

**Author's Note:**

> so I worked in a bookstore for most of my senior year of high school and I just kind of pulled all my memories of that experience into this thing haha yeah  
> I did find an old book w/poems and letters glued into it once it was sara teasdale's poetry collection rivers to the sea  
> [I drew fanart for my own fic](https://i.imgur.com/undefined.png) because I am Like That  
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://cubistemoji.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/mashazart/)  
> 


End file.
